Shades of Gray
by wingsofseyfert12
Summary: We are often quick to pass judgment on a person's actions even without realizing the reasons behind them. So much occurs in the backstage of a person's life yet no one seems to care. Perhaps ignorance isn't bliss after all.


Disclaimer: I do not own Aishiteruze Baby nor do I profit from the writing of this story.

Author's Note: Me being distracted yet again. I have a main project in the works and I'm writing other stuff instead. I just finished this anime yesterday and I loved it.

Aside from that, the character I'm writing about is somewhat of a minor character (though you all should know who she is). This story is not justifying her actions in the show but perhaps looking at a possible event that might of happened during the show. Read and review and let me know what you all are thinking. Enjoy.

* * *

><p>It wasn't supposed to be this way.<p>

When I married the man of my dreams I had envisioned a bright future for us. To have a child, to have a house and live together as a happy family. It was a dream that I had been wanting ever since I was a child.

Never did I think that I could be so in love with one person. How my heart started to accelerate just at the sight of my husband. He was not the most handsome man but something about him attracted to me to him. I always felt so safe and loved when he held me in his arms.

When Shouta was born I almost died from sheer joy. To believe that crying, kicking little bundle of life had come out of me, out of my own body. That my husband and I were able to create a life capable of feelings, hopes and dreams.

I loved my husband and I loved my child even more. It seemed that my dream was soon to come true. We were to be a family and we would raise this child with all our love and dedication.

So why?

Why does it still remain a dream?

Perhaps it was when my husband decided to quit his job after his employer had been cutting more and more of his hours. He reassured me that he did this so that we can claim unemployment and he would find a job before those funds ran dry.

The best laid plans sometimes don't work.

* * *

><p>One week turned to one month, one month soon turned into one year.<p>

One year.

A whole year in which my husband was unable to find a job. My meager income coupled with our unemployment was enough to get us by. However, the unemployment soon ran its course and we were forced to rely on my income.

Slowly but surely our relationship crumbled.

I found myself growing jaded, harsh and pessimistic. I could no longer look at my husband without feeling resentment. He would avoid my gaze and I grew angry.

I know that times are tough right now. I know that this damn recession has made it difficult for him to find good work.

Yet that look of defeat angered me. It was like he was telling me that he was giving up and that there was no hope.

And I would want to scream. Scream at him to stop looking so pathetic! That he is not the only one suffering right now! That I was killing myself to keep us afloat, that I still had hope that we would get through this! Worst of all, it seemed that he no longer wanted to speak with me.

Everytime I spoke to him, he would draw back like a frightened animal. He would avert his gaze and soon respond softly, passively as if not to anger me. He would walk away and refrain from touching me, as if I were a plague or something. What had happened to that strong man I married years back?

Can't he see that I need him right now? That I am not as strong as I seem? That perhaps I want him to wrap his arms around me, to tell me that it was going to be all right, that he was doing his best and that he would still love and protect me no matter what.

I sometimes think believe that perhaps I am not pretty enough for him. I stare at myself at the mirror and notice that my hair has greyed a bit and that subtle lines have appeared around my mouth. My eyes look tired and bagged.

The sight before me would make me want to break the mirror in front of me. I hated it! I hated the fact that I am not as beautiful as I had once been. That all this shit we are going through has turned me into...this...this...witch staring back at me.

* * *

><p>My child, Shouta, whom I treasured from the day of his birth, soon started to grate on my nerves. His constant ranting. The inexhaustible energy. The running around.<p>

Why won't he stay still? Doesn't he know that I am killing myself to keep this family from becoming homeless? That all I want to do after picking him up from school after work is to just sit down and relax my tired body?

Of course he doesn't know any of that. He is only a child, blissfully ignorant of the circumstances we were in.

His constant enthusiasm, his unending joy. That beautiful smile.

Why? Why does he get to be so happy while I am so wretched.

I know that it is childish of me to envy his lot in life. That he doesn't have to worry about the constant shit adults have to put up with day in and day out.

That perhaps I want him to suffer, to make him go through what I am going through. Its only fair, right?

And the day comes that he pushes me too far and I strike him on the face.

For a moment, I feel all my stresses go away. That the weight of the world is no longer on my shoulders. I feel like I have won a small victory and for a moment, all is right with the world.

Everything changes when I turn and look at my little boy.

He is on the ground rubbing his cheek as he stares into me with those wide, black orbs glistening with his tears.

At that moment, I feel like I'm about to die.

"What have I done?" I ask myself in disbelief.

I look at the hand that had struck the joy of my life and I feel like hacking it off. Shouta starts to cry and I immediately go up to him and cradle him in my arms as I cry with him, telling him that mommy was very sorry and that she would never do it again.

But it turns out that I'm a good for nothing liar.

* * *

><p>Everytime I struck him, I felt relief. That for a moment I was in control and master of destiny. That my stresses would go away.<p>

As I repeated this act I found myself caring less and less for the welfare of my child. Where as before I would hold him and beg him to forgive his mommy soon turns to me not giving a damn.

Soon, I start to realize that I long for this feeling. The feeling of superiority, of being in control. To forget my frustrations and stresses if only for a little while. I start to find any reason to strike my son, even if they are unreasonable.

I tell myself that I am not like this. That I am only doing these things out of circumstance.

I tell myself that I am a good person and that I love my son and am only doing what is best for him.

But I know that deep down, I'm just being a cruel bitch.

* * *

><p>There were days in which we would have no food in the fridge. We would run out before my check came in.<p>

I never told my husband. He would only start to sulk even more and lose the will to even find a job, which was the last thing I wanted.

Even at my age there are certain advantages of being a woman.

I-I regret to say that I had to...compromise myself in order to obtain the funds needed to get some groceries at various times.

That on the night after these incidents I would cry. Cry so much for knowing that I had degrade myself just so that we wouldn't starve I felt like I wanted to die right then and there.

My husband never came to comfort me.

* * *

><p>The other mothers knew. How the hell they knew it was beyond me but they knew what I did. When I took my son to school for Parent Day I noticed all the chatter and glares coming my way from the other women.<p>

"Don't you dare look at me like that! Like I am a goddamn whore! At the very least I am doing it to put food on the table not to just have a good time you hypocrites!" I would scream in my head at them.

As if that day wasn't bad enough, my son soon started to make a scene, embarrassing me in front of the other mothers. Why? Why couldn't that boy just behave and do what he was told? Isn't it enough that I had to go and put my ass in display just to eat?

I grab his wrist and drag him away from everyone else. As soon as we are outside the preschool I slap him in the face, my anger getting the better of my judgment and reason.

Then I hear a cry from behind me and I freeze.

"Don't hit Shouta-kun!"

I suddenly realize what I did to Shouta in public. I turn to find a crowd of mothers and their children. The mothers glare at me once more, like they want to kill me.

While I maintain a tough facade on the inside I am tearing apart. Why is everyone always against me? What wrong have I done to deserve the shit that I gone through?

The child that cried out was in front of me accompanied by a handsome looking teenager. She had light, plaid hair and was bawling. I recognized her as she started to point her finger at me.

"S-She hit Shouta-kun."

The sheer audacity of this child to poke her nose at my business.

"I know you. You are the child with no mother." I respond. The teenager glares at me.

I glare back as he soon begins to walk toward me.

He is handsome and well built with ripped arms. His face is confident and his walk has a bit of a swagger. As he confronts me I notice that he is considerably taller than me, at least three or more inches.

But while he thinks he may be big shit I know that he is only a child. I stand my ground ready to defend myself.

"Woman. Do you know what you are saying to a child?" he says.

"What of it?" I ask in response.

"That you have no right to say such a cruel thing to a child. That perhaps she is right in what she said. Maybe Yuzuyu is telling the truth." said the teenager.

He glares at me with a restrained anger. That look he is giving me, how dare he. How dare does this kid look at me as if he were trying to pass judgement. As if he could even comprehend the HELL I have been through.

"Aren't you still in high school?" I ask.

The boy looks at me, momentarily confused that I changed the subject.

"Yeah, so?" he asks.

I start to shake. Pent up frustrations soon start to come to the fore. I look at the teenager before me and glare at him before venting.

"Just because you take care of a child for a little while does not make you a parent. You take care of the girl under the comfort of your parent's home. Let me ask you, if you suddenly had to take care of that girl on your own with no help from anyone would you be able to do it?" I ask harshly.

The teenager before seems stunned at my question as he widens his eyes, suddenly realizing the severity of the issue. I continue.

"What can you do to provide for a child? Do you have a job? Are you willing to be up at any time during the night to comfort your child for any reason? To what lengths are you willing to put food on the table for your child even when you don't have a penny to your name? Tell me!" I scream.

The young man is dumbfounded. I look at him and I notice that he averts his eyes and casts his head downward. Like a goddamn kid! Like a child being scolded by his mother! Like the very child he is despite his swagger, height and muscles.

"Perhaps you can finally understand what I am saying. Being a parent is more than this little baby-sitting crap you are doing. That you yourself are just a kid. So until you can prove to me that you can raise that little girl all on your own like a man you have no right to judge me."

The teenager before looks completely deflated, defeated. I feel an overwhelming sense of relief. That little rant really did me some good.

The boy is soon saved by his older sibling. She offers a curt apology for her brother stepping out of line. I soon leave with my child.

* * *

><p>As I look down at the boy walking beside me I notice that an ugly bruise starts to form on his cheek.<p>

He looks up at me and smiles and, for the first time in a long while, I find myself melting at the sight. He could have easily gone to any of the teachers at the preschool if he wanted but he chose to stay by my side.

I kneel down beside him.

"Shouta...do you still love me?" I ask. I close my eyes, waiting for the inevitable answer.

"Yes mommy!" he beams as he hugs me.

My eyes widen at his reaction. I was sure that he was going to hate me but once again he proved me wrong. I embrace the boy as I hold him close to me as I start to weep.

I know that he is going to grow up to be a strong, capable man. Strong, yet kind. Firm, yet forgiving.

Even now he is a far better person than I am. And while I get angry and annoyed with him I know one thing.

I'm proud of him.

I just hope he can forgive his foolish, weak mother when the time comes.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: As I said, not justifying her actions but I thought I could write about her. This is the end of this little one shot. Remember, read and review people! Peace out.<p> 


End file.
